Two Characters in Search of an Author
by Kafka'sdragon
Summary: For years the girls of class 3A have suffered in the stories of numerous fanfic writers. Now, it's time for payback. Let this be a warning to you all. A oneshot story now at double-shot strength.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just a short break for me. To those of you who read the 'Markham Chronicles,' and I thank you both, I'll be back later this month. The title is inspired by Luigi Pirandello's 'Six Characters in Search of an Author.' Now for the disclaimer" I do not own the Negima story, characters or universe. I do not own nor am I receieving product placement payments from the Cherokee Nation Casino. This is dedicated to all the contributors to the Train Station.**

* * *

The air shimmered above the tarmac. Still technically Spring, the temperature had soared over 100۫ Fahrenheit. Coupled with a humidity of 92, the day was intolerable for mad dogs, although it was debatable for Englishmen. 

A white limousine glided eastward over the four lane highway, cruising along at just under 70 miles per hour. A large billboard entreated travelers to visit the Cherokee Nation Casino at Tahlequah Oklahoma. It proudly proclaimed "We have the loosest slots in the state." A mile past the billboard, the car pulled over the shoulder and came to stop, just short of an intersection. The engine idled as the passenger door opened. Two girls slid out of the back compartment and stood on the asphalt.

Both girls wore identical uniforms, down to their black oxfords. They appeared to be only in their early teens, but both radiated an air of supreme self confidence. Otherwise, their appearance was dissimilar. The taller of the two had blonde hair and looks that would shame a super model. She moved with an effortless grace. As an admirer once remarked, watching her was like watching a symphony in motion. The shorter girl seemed almost plain in comparison. She had reddish-brown hair that was tied into two ponytails. Bells, attached to her hair, tinkled whenever she moved. She exuded a sense of strength much like a wave swelling before it crashed on the beach.

"Wait for us in town," the blonde girl told the driver. "I'll call you when we're ready."

After she shut the door, the car pulled back onto the highway and sped out of sight. The two girls proceeded south on the side road. The heat was stifling and they quickly removed their ties and school blazers.

"Why do we have to walk Ayaka," the shorter girl asked. "The limo was air conditioned."

"If we're seen, the limousine would be easy to trace," her companion replied. "How far do we have to go anyway Asuna?"

"According to map quest, we walk south for one mile and then take the first right turn," the girl called Asuna replied.

"How did Chisame ever find this place?" the blonde girl asked.

"She hacked into the website's records and tracked down the email information," Asuna told her. "She used her artifact to trace it to the delivery mail server and then retrieved the address."

'I understand she caused quite a backlog on their message server," she added. "It took them a few days to set it all to right."

"Amazing," the other girl commented. "I really have to get an artifact of my own."

She heard the sound of bells as Asuna shook her head. "No shotacon is going to do a lip lock with Negi while I'm around."

"That's rich coming from you," Ayaka retorted. "You were the first one to rush in and make a contract."

"He was in danger from Eva," she stammered as her face turned red. "I was only trying to help him."

Ayaka bit back her reply. To continue would only rouse her classmate's anger. And she'd rather Asuna directed her anger towards somebody else. "Chisame must want this guy badly too."

"Do you blame her," Asuna responded. "She's suffered as much as anyone."

"Are you going to be able to do this Asuna?"

Asuna looked shocked by the question. "After the way he humiliated us, you have to ask?"

"I'll do my part," the baka ranger insisted. "Just make sure you don't wimp out on me."

Ayaka didn't think of herself as a violent person, but she shared her classmate's desire for revenge. Some things could be ignored or laughed off, but this was different. This man had to be stopped before he could hurt anyone else.

The pair came to the first right turn. They saw a dirt road. Trees grew on either side and their branches spread out and intertwined, providing an inviting canopy to escape the hot sun. They stood underneath and savored the shade. Ayaka unfastened the top two buttons of her sweat-streaked shirt. She felt the stirrings of a slight breeze and enjoyed the sensation of the air moving across her bare skin.

Modest brick homes lined the street. The girls encountered none of the occupants as they made their way down the lane. Two homes stood at the end of the cul-de-sac. Asuna took a piece of paper from her coat pocket. She unfolded it and carefully searched the neatly typed lines of text.

"That one," she said, pointing to the house on the right. "Number 396 according to Chisame's list."

A chain-link fence enclosed the front yard. They walked up the gravel drive that ran alongside the house. An unlocked gate barred their way. Ayaka pulled out two pairs of surgical gloves and she and Asuna slipped them on. She opened the gate and stepped onto the porch. The class rep tested the door knob and discovered it turned easily. She pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Light filtered in through the window shade. The constant hum of the air conditioner was the only sound they heard. They glanced about the living room. A couch and two chairs were grouped around a coffee table, and an upright piano was pushed against the opposite wall. What truly surprised them was the number of books strewn about. There must have been several hundred books in the room. They were stacked on every available surface except the lone book case. That held a number of small ornaments and decorative figures.

"I guess he likes to read," Asuna whispered.

Ayaka nodded her head in response and headed for the central hallway. She motioned for her companion to check the kitchen while she investigated a bedroom. Asuna glanced about. The sink was full of dirty dishes. Empty soda bottle ringed the waste bin and that overflowed with flattened boxes of pizza rolls and hot pockets. A coffee maker sat on the counter. It continued to heat a thin layer of the brown liquid still in the carafe. Three mugs sat next to it. She picked one up and examined it. It was half-full and she thought she saw little green things floating in it.

"Ugh," she thought as she set it back down.

They met in the hallway. Ayaka whispered to her, "Do you hear that?"

Asuna had to strain but she heard the faint sound of snoring coming from the end of the hall. Silently, they crept down to an open door and peeked into the master bedroom. A man wearing a yellow bathrobe slept in blissful ignorance on a king-sized bed. A pair of red slippers was propped against the foot of the bed.

Asuna pulled her pactio card out of her pocket. "Adeat," she said and a huge sword materialized. "Now it's your turn," she told the blonde girl.

Ayaka sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook the man's shoulder. "Wakey, wakey," she said. "My friend and I have wanted to meet you for the longest time."

The man's eyes fluttered open. He looked into the class rep's face and seemed incapable of speech. His mouth opened several times before he could manage to speak and then the only thing he could say was "Wow."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I wanted you to know how much I enjoyed your little stories about my friends and me."

"You've read my story?" he asked, truly surprised.

"Oh several times," she replied. "I particularly like that one line you wrote 'You can't tell me that Negi could be this strong for you'."

The man suddenly frowned. "Did I write that?" he muttered.

"Or how about 'Could Takamichi be this soft'."

"Um, wait a moment," he started to say but Asuna cut him off.

"And for your expletive delete information, I couldn't care expletive delete about Arkansas!" she yelled.

His eyes widened in terror as the slender girl hefted her great sword above her head. "Die Ambrant Arandel!" she cried.

The blade sheared through the mattress and struck the box springs with a raucous thunk. The girl tugged on the massive sword, trying to release it from the metal coils. "Expletive delete!" she cried out. "It's stuck."

The man was sitting up and had his arms wrapped around Ayaka in a death grip. "Don't hurt me," he pleaded. "You've made a terrible mistake."

"The only mistake I made was misjudging how quickly you can move," she replied.

Ayaka tried to move her arms but they were pinned fast to her sides. Her breasts pushed up against his chest as he held on for dear life. "Let go of me!" she demanded.

"Not till your friend ditches the sword."

"Fat chance of that," Asuna said. The sound of wood splintering and coils popping filled the air as her blade came free.

She gazed down at the man struggling to hold onto the blonde girl. "I swear you will never write another chapter again."

"But I'm not Ambrant Arandel," he sobbed. "I only wish I was."

"What?"

"I mean I wish I could write like him," he corrected himself. "I'm Kafka'sdragon."

Asuna looked over to Ayaka for help. The girl's face was flushed and she gasped "Can't breath."

"Oh alright, abeat," she said. The frustration was evident in her voice, but her artifact vanished all the same.

Reluctantly, the robed man released Ayaka. She took several deep gulps of air. At the same time, he noticed that several of her buttons had come undone during the struggle. He stared, bedazzled by the sight, until Asuna smacked him on the back of his head.

"You say you're Kafka'sdragon, but can you prove it?"

"It's not like I have a photo id with my pen name," he replied. "Oh wait."

He knelt on the floor and pulled four cardboard boxes from underneath the bed. He placed the boxes on the mattress and removed their lids. To his disappointment, Ayaka had buttoned her blouse back up.

The boxes each contained several hundred pages of neatly typed text. "What's all this?" the baka ranger asked.

"These are manuscripts," he replied. "Do you remember the hero's name in my story?"

Asuna shook her head. "Never read it," she answered.

"Me either," Ayaka remarked.

The man shook his head and sighed. "It's Phillip Markham."

He handed each girl a stack of papers from a box. "These are the summaries for two of the novels," he told them. "Who is the hero?"

Asuna scanned the pages. "Phillip Markham," she answered sourly.

"This one too," the blonde noted. "Let me see that list again."

"This is the address written down," Ayaka said. "I wonder if Chisame sent us to the wrong one."

"Why would she do that?" her companion asked.

"Maybe she decided to deal personally with Mr. Arandel." She replied. "After all, she narrowly avoided having to do it with Nijuin-sensei in her chapter."

"Is Kafka'sdragon on the list?"

"No," Ayaka said. "Although Madoka was upset to be paired with an older man."

She heard Asuna clear her throat and remembered her friend had a big sword. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," she hastily added.

"Sorry to have bothered you Mr. Dragon," she said as she stood up. "We'll see ourselves to the door."

The two classmates trudged back towards the highway. They were hot, sweaty and thoroughly disgusted with the turn of events. "Where to next?" Asuna asked.

"Ohio I think," Ayaka answered. "We need to take care of X Serac."

"What? But what did he ever do?" Asuna was shocked that his name was on the list. "Sure, he killed Asakura, but even she wept when she read the end of 'The Dreamer.' And Ku likes being an important character."

"He and his crony, Master Masa, really mess Theru over in their latest stories."

"Why doesn't she deal with them?"

"Well . . .,' Ayaka hesitated.

"Spill it sister."

"She promised that if we pay those two a little visit," Ayaka's face began to turn a deeper red than it had been, "then she'd write a big, romantic scene between Negi-sensei and me in her next chapter."

"You big shotacon!"

"I am not!"

As the two school girls continued their discussion, Kafka'sdragon stood in the kitchen, washing dishes. A fresh pot of coffee was brewing and his Don McLean 8 track was blaring out of the speakers. He had to replace the mattress, but the memory of Ayaka-chan pressed up against him more than compensated. He could hardly wait to tell the people at the train station all about it.

Briefly, he considered sending AA a warning, but decided against it. If he could come out alive after facing two girls and a really big sword, AA should be able to handle a deranged net idol with a flower pot.

* * *

**A/N: Before you start flaming, I want to point out that that this story was done with Ambrant Arandel's kind permission. Okay, what did you think? Did you like it? Did you laugh? Did it suck? Did you think you'd never reach the end? Or are you the kind that skips to end, so now you're completely bewildered? Let me know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I originally conceived of this as a one-shot, but almost immediately thought of a sequel. In the mean time, Ambrant Arandel wrote a response (chapter 19 of 'A Day Indoors') I knew I couldn't top, so I let the idea remain just another jumble of scribbles in one of many notebooks. However, in honor of Kagurazaki-san's Birthday (number 20 according to the manga) I dust it off and present the next and final (?) chapter. To place this in context, the chapter takes place following chapter 30 of 'Markham Chronicle Negima' where Nodoka, well if you read it you know.**

**I do not own 'Negima' or 'Forest Gump' and am violating a ton of copyright and intellectual property laws purely because it's fun to write about. I do not own an interest in nor am I receiving payments from the Cherokee Nation Casino, the Castle of Muskogee or the Oklahoma Renaissance Faire. X-Serac and Theru are fellow contributors to the Train Station and two excellent writers. If you haven't read their stories, they are well worth searching out. Any other resemblance to actual persons, with the exception of this author, is purely coincidental. **

"Words"

'Thoughts'

"**Spells**"

* * *

**All's Faire**

'_Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.'_ – Forest Gump

Asuna Kagurazaka wasn't sure why the line from an obscure, American movie came to her as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. The previous evening, she was in Ohio, crawling through rush hour traffic in Ayaka's white limousine. They had been toasting Chisame for her brilliant scheme in revenging themselves on one of those fan fiction authors that made all of the students' lives miserable. From the way the bell-wearing hellion's head felt this morning, she was sure it wasn't ginger ale Ayaka was pouring into the champagne glasses.

All three were giggling about their nemesis' downfall when the class rep's cell phone rang. Why the blonde girl chose the 'Hallelujah Chorus' for a ringtone was beyond her. "Hello Yue," Ayaka said. "We have good news. Huh?"

Asuna, a little giddy from the celebrating, watched the grin flee from the class rep's face as the girl listened to her frantic classmate on the other end. Ayaka promised to take care of it and closed the cell phone lid with a sharp snap. Concerned, Asuna asked though the words came out slurred, "Whash wrong?"

Trying to choose small words for her companion, the blonde teen replied "Nodoka flipped out after reading that Dragon guy's latest chapter. We'll need to take care of him after all."

"But I thought we were going to deal that other writer first," Chisame interjected. "He does live in this state."

Ayaka pursed her lips together in thought then jabbed the intercom button for the front seat. "Driver," she said crisply, "get us to the closest airport."

Turning to Asuna, the class rep continued. "Chisame and I will stay here," Ayaka told her. "You fly out to Oklahoma and pay a visit to Mister Kafka'sdragon. Okay?"

The insides of the limo had started spinning so Asuna leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "Whatever," she responded and then didn't remember anything until being hurried onto a red-eye flight for Tulsa. Now she was in a cab speeding down the Muskogee turnpike, going back to a certain brick house at the end of a tree-lined lane. As she watched the digits on the meter turn over, she was glad this was on Ayaka's dime. Revenge may be sweet, but it sure as hell was expensive.

An hour later, the taxi turned off the turnpike and onto the highway heading towards Tahlequah. Another twenty minutes brought them to the billboard advertising the local casino, and the cab slowed to make the turn down the side road. A few minutes more and the yellow car pulled in front of the mail box marked 396. "Wait here for me," Asuna told the driver as she slipped out of the backseat. "I shouldn't be too long."

Swiftly, she made her way up the drive, gavel crunching under a pair of size 23, black, oxford shoes. Disdaining the latex gloves, Asuna tested the back door and discovered it locked. She reached for her pactio card, whispered "**adeat**" and a huge sword materialized in answer to her summons. The girl took a moment to concentrate her ki and then kicked. The flimsy door splintered as it flew from its hinges, ricocheted off a sofa then fell down across a coffee table. "Hi honey," Asuna loudly announced as she stepped into the den. "I'm home."

Only the ever present hum of the air conditioning unit greeted her grand entrance. She rapidly searched the house, finding neither hide nor hair of its perverted occupant. Passing back through the kitchen, she noticed an open laptop on the table. The monitor displayed a picture of Konoka on it that caught her attention. She watched in fascination as the screen saver slowly morphed the image of her roommate into one of Setsuna and then Haruna after that.

Cautiously, Asuna touched the pad and banished the slowly dissolving image of the mangaka. The internet browser was open to a web page for the Oklahoma Renaissance Festival. Using the navigation buttons, the teen verified both date and directions. As she slid across the cab's backseat, she instructed the driver, "Take me to the Castle in Muskogee."

--

The bell-wearing student, grateful for ATMs and the class rep's card, strolled through the replica, 16th century, English village and market. Workers, merchants, and visitors alike were dressed in costumes ranging from simple to elaborate, making Asuna feel out of place in her school uniform. 'Kind of like the cosplayers at the Mahora festival,' the girl thought as she craned her neck to stare at a heavy-set man, ostentatiously dressed and surrounded by a retinue of guards. Turning away as the group passed out of sight, she spotted a familiar face through a shop window.

Instead of the god-awful yellow bathrobe he wore before, the wanna-be writer was costumed like other faire goers, dressed in grey shorts and vest over a white shirt and knee socks. The red piping and metal buttons reminded Asuna of a uniform. He was examining a dark-blue goblet with the stem fashioned into the appearance of a dragon. "You have this in emerald as well as sapphire?" he asked the scantily-clad, female clerk.

"And ruby-red too good sir," the woman replied as she graced him with a professional smile.

The uniformed man set the glass back on the counter. "I'll think about it," he said as he turned about and caught sight of Asuna. Amazement crossed his face as the man recognized the girl who had turned his bed into kindling just a few days earlier. "Um," he said at a temporary loss for words, "what?"

He couldn't miss the steel-cold glint in the student's eyes. "Congratulations," Asuna pronounced in perfect English. "You made the list."

Blood drained from his face, leaving it a ghastly, white color. Suddenly, he glanced out of the same window Asuna had spotted him through. "Wow, did Takamichi come with you?" he asked in a surprised tone. "That guy looks just like him."

Without thinking, Asuna looked out the window in response. "Where do you," she started to say but was answered by the sound of booted heels pounding over wooden planks. Her foot stomped once in frustration while she cursed in her much improved English, "Damn!" Before the echo of her voice could rebound, the red baka ranger was in pursuit of her quarry.

Dashing out of the shop, Asuna heard the steady, clip clop of a horse pulling a carriage. Turning her head towards the sound, the girl found her fleeing target. 'Got'cha,' she thought as she raced forward, only to have him leap up into the carriage. A startled, blonde-haired girl seated on the bench watched him cross to the far side. He muttered "Sorry your highness," to the occupant then bounded down. By the time Asuna made her way around, the man was amongst the crowd streaming into the mock castle.

Unable to force her way through the press of people, the middle school student fumed as the line moved towards the entrance with agonizing slowness. She was perfectly capable of clearing a path but Ayaka had warned her repeatedly about keeping a low profile. Precious minutes later, Asuna stepped over the threshold and entered the building's interior.

People milled about, looking over the tables piled with more items for sale. A stage and folding chairs filled the north end of the great hall, with a wide aisle down the center. The object of her revenge sat in the front row, next to the aisle. Boldly she strode down the aisle, reaching the man just as a group of musicians garbed like extras from an Arabian Nights movie mounted the stage. Asuna noted he grinned as he looked up at her, as if daring her to do something in front of so many people.

"My lords and ladies," one of the musicians called out to the crowd. "Prepare to have your eyes, your ears, in fact all of your senses delighted. But we ask that everyone be seated and that the aisle be kept clear."

The man's smirk irritated Asuna as she glanced about for an empty chair. Finding none, she turned and plopped herself on his lap. A moment later she twisted about and glared murderously at him, her cheeks turning red and the veins in her forehead throbbing dangerously. "Don't blame me," he whispered in response. "I'm a healthy male."

"I can change that," she warned then turned back to the front as six female dancers, dressed like the musicians, walked onto the stage. "What's this all about?"

"Watch and be amazed," her unwelcomed companion answered.

"Hrmpf," the girl muttered as the music started and the dancers began their gyrations.

Asuna had seen belly dancers before, but not quite like these ones. The dancers performed with a variety of objects such as cymbals that fit over fingers or with wooden canes. One of the musicians produced a pair of short, scimitar-like blades. Placing a small melon on a mat, he demonstrated how sharp they were by cleaving the fruit in half then handed the swords to one of the women. She dismounted the stage as the music played and light flashed from the metal as she twirled and spun to the beat.

For a moment, Asuna forgot why she was here as she got wrapped up in the spectacle. Her heart raced as sounds and motions grew faster. The dance reached its climax as the woman suddenly dropped to her knees in front of the surprised girl. Asuna stopped breathing as those razor sharp swords hovered on either side of her neck. The dancer's smile and the audience's applause let her know that this was a part of the act, so she finally exhaled, only to have a dozen hands pull her up from her seat and hustle her on stage.

She found herself sandwiched between the performers, as hands clasped hers and arms rose into the air. The troop bowed again and again to an ovation that thundered through the hall. After the third such bow, Asuna looked up to find a particular, front row seat empty and caught the back of a grey uniform scoot out of the door. Bells chimed as she bolted from the stage; the chase resumed.

Although she was considerably faster than the man, the crowds hampered her pursuit. Plus, he was familiar with the layout of the site. He went to the right of a food stand and Asuna went left. She was running along a boardwalk enclosed by chain link fencing as the writer raced along the ground outside of the barrier. Sweat soaked through the back of the vest, turning the grey dark with perspiration. Kafka was panting heavily now and Asuna knew it was just a matter of time.

Asuna skidded to a halt as the boardwalk suddenly ended. Beyond the fence were two girls wearing filmy costumes, sporting gossamer wings on their backs. Her quarry raced passed the confused duo as Asuna stared at a sign that read 'Fairy Glade.' She had to backtrack to find an exit from the Enchanted Forest, but was soon on the main trail, heading north.

The track brought her to the edge of a pond with a sign that declared the area to be 'Pirate Cove.' Several food stalls dotted the area, doing a brisk business from the number of people eating at the scattered picnic tables. The writer who called himself Kafka'sdragon moved swiftly along the north shore, towards an exit gate. "**Adeat!**" she shouted and then, harisen in hand, charged.

Her target had spotted her and began running as if his very life depended on it. Not taking the moments to go around, he jumped onto a picnic table, startling the people seated there, and leapt off the other side. But Asuna had anticipated him this time and in the blink of an eye appeared on the far side of the table. The harisen swung out in a forehand smash that would have impressed the school's tennis coach. Propelled by the force, the man sailed ten meters before falling to the ground. "The dragon has landed," Asuna commented as she rushed forward. To her disappointment, she heard both the man groan and the scream of a police siren at nearly the same time.

Both hunter and prey shared the same fate, cuffed and seated in the back of a police cruiser. The large, overly-dressed man Asuna had seen earlier looked in through the far window. "What is the meaning of this Goodman Thomas?"

"I apologize for not bowing your majesty," Kafka'sdragon replied. "I'm afraid the young lady here took exception to something I wrote."

"I didn't realize fan fiction was so dangerous," the man remarked. "Do we still have a game master for Tuesday?"

"If I'm not still in jail," the writer answered.

"Let me talk to Paul," the big man said. "Being a cousin to the county sheriff ought to be good for something." Hunkering down further, he took a long look at Asuna. "You have a pretty good swing by all accounts," he told her. "When it comes time for college, let me know if you'd be interested in a sports scholarship."

As the man walked away, Asuna turned towards the author. "Who was that?"

"That would be his majesty, King Henry Tudor," Kafka answered. "Outside the faire he's a professor of medieval history at a local university."

His grime-streaked face turned towards his companion. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder," he said. "Can't we reach some sort of agreement to call this off?"

Asuna considered this for a moment. She had sworn to revenge all of her class on those authors who had treated them so callously. One could argue she had already fulfilled her vow. "Well, I can think of one way."

--



May gave way to June, and Asuna stood perfectly still in the center of the room. White lace fell across her mismatched eyes as her best friend and maid of honor settled the thin veil atop her head. Konoka stepped back to observe her handiwork and giggled in response. A look of concern flared across Asuna's face. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," the bride's maid quickly assured her. "You look beautiful."

Konoka spun her roommate towards the mirror and continued, "See for yourself."

Involuntarily, Asuna's breath drew in at the image that confronted her. She had been expecting to see an immature, awkward, tomboyish girl in the reflection, like a child playing dress up in her mother's clothes. Surely the young woman in the white gown was somebody else. Slowly the girl lifted her hands to the veil, watching in rapt attention as the reflected figure did the same. A smile of pleasure spread across her face.

Asuna whirled about and grabbed Konoka in a fierce hug. "Thank you," she cried as tears welled up and threatened to spill down her cheeks, ruining the carefully applied makeup. "I don't even recognize myself."

"It does seem amazing," Setsuna noted as the two girls released their hold and Konoka set back to work adjusting the bride's outfit. "Wasn't Takahata-sensei's proposal sudden?"

Asuna recalled her return from Oklahoma only a few weeks before. She had walked out of customs to find her guardian and former teacher waiting for her in the terminal. The student marveled at how handsome he looked in a crisp, linen suit; nothing like his normal, rumpled appearance. They politely greeted one another, just like always, and then Takamichi pulled a small, black box from his coat pocket. Kneeling before her, the teacher opened the lid to reveal the most beautiful, diamond ring she had ever seen. Grinning broadly, he asked the question she had never thought to hear, "Asuna, will you marry me?"

Her first impulse was to throw herself into his arms and had they not been in a lobby teeming with thousands of people, she would have. The teen-aged girl had dreamed of this moment, yet now that it had arrived, was too nervous to utter a word. In desperation Asuna searched the man's eyes, noting their calm, cool demeanor. They were eyes that expressed a great soul within, one she could spend the rest of her life with. "Yes Takahata-sensei," she answered, feeling every bit like a Jane Austen heroine. "I will."

Konoka's gushing brought her to the present. "Oh, it was so romantic," the dark-haired girl said as she continued to fuss with the veil. "By the way, what happened to the class rep and Chisame?" she asked. "You don't think they had any trouble do you?"

"You have no idea," a familiar voice called from the doorway, causing three heads to turn in that direction. Bundled in a heavy parka, boots and gloves, a figure pulled back the hood to be revealed as the class rep. Ayaka's face was red and chapped from exposure to wind and sun; her long, blonde hair was a filthy, matted mess with leaves and twigs sticking out at odd places. A similarly garbed person stood behind the president.

Asuna recognized Chisame's pale face within the confines of the hood. "How was Ohio?" she asked.

"Ohio?" the blonde girl snorted. "Somebody warned that baka and he ran!"

"But could he be considerate and flee to Cancun or Cozumel?" the class rep lamented. "No, he had to go north.

The trio listened to their classmates' litany of troubles, all the while growing more alarmed as the veins in Ayaka's forehead pulsed with a life of their own. Logs, rivers, snow, wolves, bears and mosquitoes obstructed their way, but the two pushed onward. They had crossed the ocean in an open boat, dodged ice bergs and finally tracked the elusive author to Greenland. "We cornered him on the ice cap," Ayaka ranted. "And then found out he had apologized to Theru and made up. Arrrgh!"

"So you're not getting a romantic scene with Negi anytime soon?" Asuna asked with a knowing smirk.

"You traitor!" Ayaka shouted as she pointed at her former conspirator. "We've spent the past month playing 'Where in the World is X-Serac' only to learn you cut a deal with the enemy!"

"Well I learned from you about cutting deals," Asuna accused. Ayaka and Chisame glowered at her as she continued. "You two can still get a good seat for the wedding if you hurry."

"Why should we bother?"

"Because the other half of my deal with Kafka is that he'll write a wedding scene with whoever catches my bouquet," she explained. The doorway was jammed as twin, parka-clad bodies tried to force their way past one another.

"Move it four-eyes!"

"Out of my way bimbo!"

Asuna and Konoka both snickered as the pair departed. Setsuna, sword in hand, started edging towards the door. "Where are you going Se-chan?"

"I think I need to find a good seat too," the swordswoman answered. "I mean a good location so I can protect you."

Asuna's chuckled filled the room. "It's rigged," she admitted. "Chizuru is going to end up with the flowers."

Her fellow classmates looked shocked. "Why her?" Setsuna asked.

"The author likes big, uh ..."

"Personalities," Konoka suggested.

"Right," she hastily agreed. "You have to admit her, ahem, personality is really big."

The group was interrupted as Kotaro, dressed in suit and tie, strolled in with a box in his arms. "Who has a really big what?" the boy asked.

"We're talking about Chizuru," Setsuna told him. "Asuna said she has a big personality."

"Well yeah," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "She's the biggest."

"And she says the same about you too Kotaro," Konoka added. "What's in the box?"

At first the boy's face beamed at the presumed praise, but grew perplexed as he thought over what the girl had said. "Another gift," he answered. "Do you want it with the others?"

"Where's it from," Asuna wanted to know.

"I can't pronounce it," Kotaro replied. "It's from someplace in 'OK' where ever that is."

"Just set it on the table," she told him. "Do you all mind if I have a little time alone?"

Once by herself, Asuna removed the paper and slit the package open. Inside laid two goblets secured in layers of bubble wrap. Stems shaped like dragons held cups, one sapphire blue and the other emerald green, high above the matching bases. She spotted a card and pulled it out to read 'Dear Asuna, I found this set and thought immediately of you. May this day bring you all that you desire. Kafka'sdragon.'

A gentle tinkle sounded as she slipped the gift card into a lacy pouch. It joined a blue handkerchief, a pactio card and the bells she received so many years ago. "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," Asuna recited as she drew the strings taut. She had once declared that everyone should have a chance at happiness. Today, at long last, would be hers.

**

* * *

**

A/N: And done. I find it odd that I seem to only be able to write about Asuna when she's in conflict with somebody. I guess that has something to do with the personality she was given. Still, most authors let her have a happy ending, unlike Yukihiro-san. One day, I may address that deficit in regards to Ayaka, but today belongs to her friend/rival.

**Oh, and Thomas Brewster is my alter-ego for faire. Like an RPG character, he has a history and personality all his own.**


End file.
